


French

by Sys



Series: Food & Drink related one shots [3]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 03:32:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16802803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sys/pseuds/Sys
Summary: I've decided to write a little series of food & drink related one shots for various fandoms. This is one of them. :)





	French

His hands refuse to allow him to fasten his tie. Refuse one of the simplest, most mundane tasks of his daily life. He sees her every day. Well, almost every day. Has done, for the past two years. But it’s different, so completely different, now that some spark of insanity has tempted him to agree to her invitation. Dinner. Just the two of them. And not at Catherine’s place. They’ll actually go out and he fails to see how that could end in anything but a complete disaster. With his luck she’ll think lobster’s a good idea and he’ll fail to remove the pincers. Or she’ll talk him into trying one of those fruity cocktails and he’ll end up getting tipsy. It can’t work out. Not with his luck. Not after she’s beamed at him, her joy reaching her eyes. 

When he finally gets to the place she picked he’s late. And he’s only realised that he hasn’t brushed his hair on the way, when there was _no_ option to rectify his mistake. If she notices, she manages not to let it show. She’s outdone herself. And if anything it makes him feel even shabbier. Why she cares remains beyond him. But he’s come to believe that she does. 

“Richard.” She rises to greet him, and it’s still difficult, allowing her to kiss his cheeks. Sometimes she’s terribly French. And it’s another reminder why it’s a bad idea. A terrible idea. Falling in love with a French woman... how could he even try to explain that to mom and dad? But it’s too late to reconsider. It’s been too late for a while. 

“They’re having an English night.”

She’s so genuinely pleased that he doesn’t point out that the menu is a lot, but definitely not English. It’s difficult to hold his tongue. But it’s one of those skills he’ll need to hone if there’s any chance at all that this won’t fail. Within the next hour or so. 

“What would you recommend?”

As if he has _any_ clue what they’ve done to his people’s cuisine. The silence stretches as he desperately scans his options for anything that they might be able to stomach without lasting damage. And then it’s a matter of trying to sound a little more enthusiastic than he feels. 

“I think I will have beef in mint sauce with sweet potatoes. I’m not sure if you’d like that.”

“I’ll indulge you if you indulge me about the drinks.”

He _knew_ this would happen. 

“They have fifty different types of tea... how about Earl Grey?”

Well there have been pleasant surprises with tea on this island, occasionally. So he nods. And she orders. In French. Because adding pineapples into mint sauce and playing _Heart of Oak_ Caribbean style isn’t exotic enough. .. 

As they wait for their order, he feels her hand reaching for his and she smiles when he looks up. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Sometimes it’s all about the company you keep... “Yes... Yes, I do.”


End file.
